


DJ Spin the Radio

by tinyfiestyrosiekitten



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, I am definitely warning you about that, M/M, Sad, This Is Sad, implied death of a character, implied death of character family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 13:53:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16242986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyfiestyrosiekitten/pseuds/tinyfiestyrosiekitten
Summary: A Radio Jockey So Far away Sings a Soldier to Sleep and So much More





	DJ Spin the Radio

**Author's Note:**

> There will be Major Character Death if you didn't read the tags. But please, give it a chance, give it a read, and enjoy. 
> 
> \- rosiekitten

His voice rattles through him each time he hears him on the radio. 

His squadmates mock him for listening to the radio even this far out on battlefields. SO far from home and the world and the radio airwaves curl around him, the vintage receiver he's rigged the only thing that works. He's not entirely selfish; he lets the others in his unit use it too mind you. But Jack knows he hogs it a bit much. Turned down low, a pair of battered ear plugs to keep from waking anyone up. Eyes staring up at the stars as the voice curls through him. Some radio DJ from California who plays his own music in the late of night. Rich voice plucking at his heart strings. So far from home and it feels like Rey is right by him. The mix of Spanish and English warming to his battered soul, each time he misses a broadcast he fights a little meaner, a little harder.  
The DJ doesn't even know he exists but he always starts and ends his broad casts with love for the soldiers. A reminder, a prayer, a call out, even letters from family members... He falls asleep when he's not on watch duty to that soft voice. Even the music he picks seems hand selected to send Jack into rest. Sometimes he does something far worse than sleep to that rich purr. Finding a quiet spot alone to slowly press his fingers into his fatigues and biting into his palm. Listening to Rey sing... Gun calloused fingers dreaming of skin that hasn't seen a weapon or war as he tugs his cock quick and messy and slick. Shivering as he squeezes his eyes shut tightly and tries to imagine it’s the other man instead.  
Jack Morrison, hopelessly in love with a man god knows how many miles away. Survived the SEP training and he'll survive the Omnic war... all because a Radio DJ from LA coos the sweetest rock love songs and laughs at his own jokes at fuck o clock in the morning and makes Jack feel like he's still human.

When the war ends, they dream of their loves and Jack just dreams idly of a warm California boy. Which is why when the lights flash and he's caught on cameras and red carpets because fucking promotion, why oh why in god’s name too: Strike Commander... His dreams of going to LA and finding the streets Rey spoke of so fondly. The same carts and food trucks and beaches he longed to find out if they were just as beautiful as Rey said they were. 

Until some of his old squad mates, now turned subordinates tugs him away. Yanking him from the brass towards a knot of new flashing lights, and he's trying to beg off until there's a gorgeous dark skinned man gently waving off the paparazzi. Scars over his nose and down one lip with a suit that fits him like a second skin and he's staring as a broad palm catches one of his own. The rich voice rolling right over him as he stares like the star struck country kid he is.

" Hello~ You must be Jack. Pardon- Strike Commander Morrison? I'm Gabriel Reyes, DJ Rey of the Night... and your squad mates rang me up and paid to have me flown out to meet you." Dark eyes travel over his dress blues and Jack can't stop the grin slowly spreading over his face as Gabriel continues with a wink and a laugh," And I am so happy they did."

His fingers tighten on Gabriel's hand, thumb brushing his knuckles as he regards the other man just as carefully," ... Well they're usually assholes. But well- I might have listened to your show enough that its one of the only things I Can fall asleep to." 

Jack thinks maybe this Strike Commander thing might not be so bad. Especially if it means he can visit California when Gabriel smiles at him just like that.  
He can't call it love . But it might be something, if he has time. If they have time.  
There's a face to pair with the voice now. The way the smile pulls at the scar near his mouth and the wrinkles to the bridge of his nose around where silvery-pink skin cuts over the bridge. The warmth to brown eyes and the warmth of his broad palm in his own gloves and all. There's so much to say about him, to think about, eye to eye and its not many who are equal to his height to boot...

Jack sends him letters as much as text messages and e-mails. Gabriel laughing about the snail mail but each letter is returned and each one smells just a little like cologne and spices. So he thinks Gabe might love them as much as Jack does as well. Exchanging pleasantries that slowly drip into something so much sweeter and intimate as the months drag on. Each word exchanged tucked into his heart. 

Especially when the job gets harder. When he realizes he's yoked himself to a beast of an ideal. 

It takes nearly a year before he steps foot in California out of uniform. An invitation to a wedding in his fingers. Greeted with shrieks and hugs instead of flashing lights and questions. The youngest sister getting married admits to him with a laugh," We almost thought Gabrielito was dreaming you up! I Guess this time I owe my 'little' big brother an apology. Don't worry tho', Mama set you both up in the little cottage house in the backyard. Totally private, since I'm going to the hotel along with my groom." 

Dark eyes rolling on an expressive pretty face," traditions " Then a secretive smile and a wink. Jack just laughs quietly realizing there's history here somewhere. Things he doesn't know. Things he Has never experienced. There's a rhythm to the house and the guests and family so much family....

Gabriel holds his hand and kisses him and introduces him as " This is Jack my boyfriend " With a cadence like a benediction and looks at Jack the same way. His fingers fit between Gabriel’s and Jack hopes he's allowed to learn each and every family tradition.

The Wedding is Gorgeous in a way Jack is still trying to understand a week after he's left.  
There were so many colors and sounds and scents. There were so many people. Even more than he expected, a whole neighborhood that turned out regardless of an invitation. Food and Drinks were flowing and the bride was stunning in her ornate gown with her groom in her tuxedo. Watching two gorgeous young ladies tie their hands together in holy matrimony... Jack can see why Gabriel speaks so fondly of his family. Though Mother Reyes has a gaze even darker than her son. Hands that are a bit worn and knobbly in ways that Jack thinks come from seeing an age come and go, seeing their children grow. When she clasps his hands she gives him a look he's not sure how to interpret. But he gets a small smile as much as a stern once over, and a gold coin with the image of a saint on one side and the virgin mother on the other.

He keeps it in his pocket until he leaves. There's a certain air of seriousness when she gifts it to him before wandering to steal a man for a dance. 

Gabe laughs it off, hands in his as they sway over the dance floor. They barely exchange a handful of kisses and one stolen moment in the dark on the back porch of the little guest cottage of sorts in the backyard of his family home. Pressed up against the wall with Gabriel's hands on his ass, around his thigh as they grind against each other then fall into bed after. 

Going back to the Main Base Gibralter is the hardest thing he's ever done. Twisting the gold coin in his fingers as he contemplates the next letter he already wants to write. A photo of himself and Gabe and the entire Reyes family on his desk... He tucks the coin in the frame. It will stay safe there.  
The first time they actually have sex is... Gabriel had come to France. Jack had paid to have him flown and he'd taken three days off from work. He needed to escape the weights around his ankles. He'd felt more and more like he was drowning. Words trapped in his throat by red tape and hands over his mouth and insidious whispers in his ears. But Gabriel is a breath of fresh air as he grips him tightly when he walks off that plane. The hotel is over the top, perhaps a little, but Gabe just smiles knowingly and holds his hand a little tighter.

They travel the country, even taking a train into Germany and back for a trip. But mostly the find every out of the way cafe they can. Gabriel's smile and warmth and beauty gets them places Jack would never dream of trying to visit. Gabe seems to learn French as they walk, stumbling broken but charming when mixed with his accent. The French love him as much as Jack does, watching him haggle for fresh bread and fruits at little stalls in a smaller French town is as beautiful as the patch of wild flowers they find to drop a blanket on and eat it all in. He can’t' resist kissing the juice of strawberries off his lips. The dark eyed look he gets for it more radiant than the sun, softer than moons misty rays.

The last day he pushes Gabriel down into the bed and clings to him. The other man doesn't say anything about it, fingers slowly working his shirt off. The two of them strip each other with an almost clinical air. Palms finding scars and hard edges and soft planes...  
Gabriel's mouth is sweet and warm and slick. Tongue curling against his shaft, hand carefully cupped under his testicles. Stroking them with slow petting motions as his mouth bobs agonizingly over his rigid cock. His fingers tight in his curls as he whimpers his name. Gabriel's smile when he pulls off with a wet pop is enough to make a man believe in Angels and Devils alike. The bite marks over his thighs makes him mouth prayers to a benediction he stopped believing in years ago certainly.

He curses his name when long fingers carefully open him up. The lubricant is cold and its a little messy and they laugh as they exchange kisses. Jack hasn't had a partner since a handful of one night stands in the war. A release of stress and that every moment was your waiting death. Gabriel won't tell him how long, or who, he simply shrugs it off and bites his lip to suck past white slightly sharp eye teeth. The pads of two fingers massaging his prostate are enough to send his thoughts tumbling form his head again. His free hand hooking his legs up over his hips, cock nudging against his ass slowly. A temptation that Jack starts ot beg for between each broken kiss. 

Gabriel adds a third finger and he thinks he loses track of time entirely. Until he comes to with a sharp shuddery noise, Gabriel's heat buried inside him. Grinding over that spot inside his fingers had been teasing. Gabriel's palms flat by his head as dark eyes watch him in loving concern. Hips tight to his own and he drags him down by his curls for a demanding kiss. Rolling his body against his lover's, and the two of them sink against each other in slow careful thrusts; Gabriel acts like he’s' going to shatter and for all he's enhanced-

For all he's survived tears prick the edges of his eyes as his arms find his neck and he clings to him. Digging pink furrows over the dark spine as he begs quietly for him. Gabriel laying kisses over tear tracks he doesn't ask about.  
The friction and pressure is enough to make him grunt quietly, gasping soft damp praise into Gabriel's shoulder. One hand curling behind his neck to hold him closer to the other man. The other tight on his hip. Dragging him into each thrust when Jack's energy starts to flag. Making sure to angle him so that each press brings him the most pleasure, Gabriel's voice against his ear enough to make him whimper pathetically and not at all be ashamed of it either. Digging his heels into his ass as his voice cracks when he finally spends himself between their stomachs and Gabriel thrusts roughly. Growling against hie shoulder before teeth find his skin and dig in. The other going still over him before pulling away after a moment. The wet slide before the plastic noise of a condom being tossed away then the heat returns to drape against him. 

Jack strokes down the sweat slick spine. The two of them fall asleep that way. Exhausted and tangled together in sweaty sheets and the scents of each other. Letting Gabriel go home is the hardest thing he's done.

When he returns to work he finds his voice again. Snapping at politicians who try and corral his agents, who try and carefully retie his hands. He thinks of the new saint coin he'd found in his jacket pocket after Gabriel had left... This one stays close to his breast. St Edward the Confessor, the saints of Kings and perhaps he is making enemies but he is not going to let them tear apart this 'kingdom' he is building.

He thinks of soft smiles and warm hands and kisses that don't ask him to be Strong but ask him to be himself as hard blue eyes meet the council men and women and refuse to be swayed or cowed. He thinks of colorful weddings and welcome arms, because this is the world he wants to keep safe, and this is the world he cares about. Not their words, not their hinted desires.

Ana and Reinhardt look at him with relief. 

Had he really died so much?  
-  
There is something not right with the world.  
He's fighting back, he's trying to unbury Overwatch from the claws they've dug in to his home, from the world they're trying to enforce, because good people are suffering and each new report that has somehow not found his desk before finds it now. There's something rotten in the state of Denmark... The coin is a heavy pressure over his chest and he tries to keep up with Gabriel but his work starts to snowball.

The letters peter off, then the messages by email and phone. It takes him three months after their vacation to France to realize he hasn't had a message in a Week by electronic means. His heart in his throat as he tries to get hold of him and when that fails tries to get in contact with Mama Reyes and the girls.

He finally breaks down after a week of failure after failure.

HE sends a young Agent out to California under cover. Jess McCree will fit better into that area than others and its his first test away from the base, trusted with something so important, so personal.

Jesse rings his hat in his office a week after that. Terrified with Ana and Reinhard grim faced behind him before he's nudged forward on stumbling coltish legs and leaves a beanie that's burnt at the edges. Somehow, someway the death of a California DJ in a house fire with his family had not reached the main news media and Jack's world bottoms out. Numbness in his jaw and fingers before he realizes Reinhardt has him in a near choke hold, Ana wrestling his gun from his fingers as she shouts at Jesse to fetch Angela.

They sedate him and he goes down sobbing. When he wakes up he's still got the beanie, that ridiculous little hat with the little skull on it in his grasp. He wails, burying his face in the hat that smells like char instead of Gabriel's favorite hair mousse and cologne.

Jack is a shambling husk after that.  
Jack goes through the motions though it ends up a futile effort. Slowly it all implodes after that, bases under attack, then Ana's Blackwatch exposed, the entirety of Overwatch under question. He doesn't know where it all ends until he's staring down the gun of a sneering sleeper agent. The button hidden in his glove feels like a benediction in of itself as he smiles at the traitor Operative. He knows for a fact the base is full of them now. Knows that his people are gone and that he was meant to go with them. Can hear the faint whine of the last full transport take off. All carefully done and swiftly so that none of the assholes left in this place are aware they know now.

He apologizes softly to Ana and Rein and Jesse and the rest but It's been a full year since Gabriel passed away. He hopes his love forgives him, that he's coming so soon.

Pressing the button to destroy Watchbase Gibralter is the most freeing thing he's done since a night in France two years ago.

Waking up in agony was not his plan. Waking up at all was not his plan! He hauls himself on soldier's instincts out of flaming smoking rubble, wheezing as he stumbles and droops his way through the maze of stone and ash and rebar. Avoiding the voices of people and the crunch of heavy steps because he’s a dead man walking and its best it stay that way. He finds an old safe house, he's not sure how long he walked and hid in copses and ditches and tall grass. Enough for light to come and go and come again that find him huddled on a thin dusty cot digging aching fingers in his pockets and finds two golden dented coins and a ruined beanie hat. The soldier tugging the hat over his gold hair before he falls asleep.

His world evolves into a new routine once he's armed himself again. His original rifle lost to the base but perhaps that's a good thing. With its hand marked metal, the onetime Gabe saw it he laughed. He asked if it was meant to be so...ornamental for a soldier? Jack hadn't even considered that the UN had taken his gun and gussied it up. Blue and silver and printed stars, like a toy or an accessory. Something to be paired with that damnable blue armored coat and then Jack himself trotted out like a gilded show pony glittering with his tack chiming just so, a picture perfect thoroughbred. His new gun is more practical. Upgraded too, the Helix Rockets are useful enough when he needs something heavier than his plasma rounds. It also differentiates himself further from Jack and puts him firmly in the mind of Soldier. He does not even know the scarred face in the mirror nor the white hair instead of blonde and all of that within months. Shock he supposes, when his fingers slide through the wiry strands. Brow furrowing as he shaves the rough stubble on his face before he attaches his mask.

A necessity. His lungs were still repairing themselves and occasionally he'd hack up thick black tar, like the worst sort of recovering smoker. Booted feet jittering as he crawls into a corner to clutch to his chest and let the thick mucous work its way free in deep hacking wheezes. The mask helped filter air and helped him get through worst days. Though the few people who knew he lived told him it was slowly clearing itself.  
Ana as the Shrike, Rein had gone back to Germany to spend time with Torbjorn and their growing family. They'd invited him to join them, to get away from the rubble and ruin when they realized he was alive, because he couldn't not tell them, not really not after all they survived together. But a sunny smile in a dark scarred face haunted his dreams. 

Haunted his nightmares, charred hands grasping at his forearms as the figure begged and cried and blamed him, he could handle those in the end. The worst ones were the ones that were kind. Gabriel curled in his arms, head pillowed on his chest laughing.  
' Come on Goldilocks time to wake up... The kids need to get to school and it’s your turn cool dad to take them' A farm somewhere between California and Indiana, adopted kids and a dog or maybe a cat, Hard work the good kind of work. His California boy there the whole time with a little brown haired boy on Jack's hand and a little girl on Gabe's hip. Gabe helping her wave good bye as he takes her brother to school.

He wakes up to the hot taste of salt tears and his own blood from trying to keep from screaming, he's lost a lot of feeling in the tip of his tongue from it.  
Sometimes he wakes up screaming anyways, curled in on himself as he sits bolt straight, gun clutched in his arms like a friend or lover instead of a weapon. No there's a reason he does not follow his few agents and friends into hiding. Not at least, until Ana begs him for help in Egypt, there's something there that scares her, something that has dug its self into her beloved home.

Talon has only gotten bolder, with its various gangs and businesses and the like. But this is new, its terrifying; even the most hardened thugs and criminals speak in whispers of whatever pet mercenary Talon has newly set loose on the world. Something man made, but not an Omnic. They call the Reaper, some dub it Uriel, but all anyone knows is that it slips past everything and everyone with nary a sound or warning. Slipping away to leave a terrified husk shriveled and horrifying with its expression trapped in a rictus of pain and desperation.

Ana feared the Reaper was now in Egypt.


End file.
